ago.”
“Do you want to come for dinner or not?” Frank said.
Only a fool would turn down one of Dovie’s dinners. That woman could cook unlike anyone he knew. Even Mary, who was no slouch when it came to preparing a good meal, had envied Dovie’s talent.
“I’ll be there,” Phil promised, and promptly at five-thirty, he arrived at Frank and Dovie’s, a bouquet of autumn flowers in his hand.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Dovie said when she greeted him, kissing his cheek lightly.
Phil immediately caught a whiff of something wonderful—a blend of delightful aromas. He smelled bread fresh from the oven and a cake of some sort, plus the spicy scent of one of her Cajun specialties.
Frank and Phil settled down in the living room and Dovie soon joined them, carrying an appetizer plate full of luscious little things. A man sure didn’t eat this well at the retirement center, he thought. Good thing, too, or he’d be joining the women at their weekly weight-loss group.
Phil helped himself to a shrimp, dipping it in a spicy sauce. Frank opened a bottle of red wine and brought them each a glass.
They chatted amiably for several minutes, but Phil knew something was on Dovie’s mind—the same way he always knew when Mary was worried about one thing or another. Phil had an inkling of what it was, too, and decided to break the ice and make it easier for his friends.
“It’s times like these that I miss Mary the most,” he murmured, choosing a brie-and-mushroom concoction next.
“You mean for social get-togethers and such?” Frank asked.
“Well, yes, those, too,” Phil said. “The dinners with friends and all the things we’d planned to do once we retired.”
Dovie and Frank waited.
“I wish Mary were here to talk to Cal.”
His friends exchanged glances, and Phil realized he’d been right. They’d heard about Cal and Nicole Nelson.
“You know?” Frank asked.
Phil nodded. It wasn’t as though he could avoid hearing. Promise, for all its prosperity and growth, remained a small town. The news that Nicole Nelson had delivered dinner to Cal had spread faster than last winter’s flu bug. He didn’t approve, but he wasn’t about to discuss it with Cal, either. Mary could have had a gentle word with their son, and Cal wouldn’t have taken offense. But Phil wasn’t especially adroit at that kind of conversation. He knew Cal wouldn’t appreciate the advice, nor did Phil think it was necessary. His son loved Jane, and that was all there was to it. He’d never do anything to jeopardize his marriage.
“Apparently Nicole brought him dinner—supposedly to thank Cal for some help he recently gave her,” Dovie said, her face pinched with disapproval.
“If you ask me, that young woman is trying to stir up trouble,” Frank added.
“Maybe so,” Phil agreed, but he knew his oldest son almost as well as he knew himself. Cal hadn’t sought out this other woman; she was the one who’d come chasing after him. His son would handle the situation.
“No one’s suggesting they’re romantically involved,” Frank said hastily.
“They aren’t,” Phil insisted, although he wished again that Mary could speak to Cal, warn him about the perceptions of others. That sort of conversation had been her specialty.
“Do you see Nicole Nelson as a troublemaker?” Phil directed the question to Dovie.
“I don’t know…I don’t think she is, but I do wish she’d shown a bit more discretion. She’s young yet—it’s understandable.”
Phil heard the reluctance in her response and the way she eyed Frank, as though she expected him to leap in and express his opinion.
“Annie seems to like her,” Dovie said, “but with this new pregnancy, she’s spending less and less time at the bookstore. Really, I hate to say anything….”
“I tell you, the woman’s a homewrecker,” Frank announced stiffly.
“Now, Frank.” Dovie placed her hand on her husband’s knee and shook her head.
“Dovie, give me some credit. I was in law enforcement for over thirty years. I recognized that look the minute I saw her.”
Phil frowned, now starting to feel seriously worried. “You think Nicole Nelson has set her sights on Cal?”
“I do,” Frank stated firmly.
“What an unkind thing to say.” Still, Dovie was beginning to doubt her own assessment of Nicole.
“The minute I saw her, I said to Dovie, ‘That woman’s trouble.’”
“He did,” Dovie confirmed, sighing. “He certainly did.”
“Mark my words.”
“Frank, please,” she said, “You’re talking as though Cal wasn’t a happily married man. We both know he isn’t the sort to get involved with a woman like Nicole. With any woman. He’s a good husband and father.”
“Yes,” Frank agreed.
“How did you hear about her taking dinner out to Cal?” Phil asked. It worried him that this troublemaker was apparently dropping Cal’s name into every conversation, stirring up speculation. Glen was the one who’d mentioned it to Phil—casually, but Phil wasn’t fooled. This was his youngest son’s way of letting him know he sensed trouble. Phil had weighed his options and decided his advice wasn’t necessary. But it seemed that plenty of others had heard about Nicole’s little trip to the ranch. Not from Glen and not from Ellie, which meant Nicole herself had been spreading the news. She had to be incredibly naive or just plain stupid or…Phil didn’t want to think about what else would be going on in the woman’s head. He didn’t know her well enough to even guess. Whatever the reason for her actions, if Jane heard about this, there could be problems.
“Glen told Ellie,” Dovie said, “and she was the one who mentioned it to me. Not in any gossipy way, mind you, but because she’s concerned. She asked what I knew about Nicole.” Like Dovie, Ellie didn’t want to involve Annie.
“Do you think anyone will say something to Jane?”
Dovie immediately rejected that idea. “Not unless it’s Nicole Nelson herself. To do so would be cruel and malicious. I can’t think of a single person in Promise who’d purposely hurt Jane. This town loves Dr. Texas.” Dr. Texas was what Jane had been affectionately called during her first few years at the clinic.
“The person in danger of getting hurt here is Cal,” Frank said gruffly. “Man needs his head examined.”
Phil had to grin at that. Frank could be right; perhaps it was time to step in, before things got out of hand. “Mary always was better at talking to the boys,” he muttered. “But I suppose I’d better have a word with him….”
“You want me to talk to him?” Frank offered.
